Solace
by dakota423
Summary: He was Kyle's brother. John's uncle. A stranger. But hate him or not, Sarah Connor had found the one piece of solace left in the world in the arms of Derek Reese. A series of follow-up pieces to my fic "A Fighting Chance."
1. Solace

**Disclaimer:** I don't own TSCC or anything associated with it. It's just a sandbox I keep coming back to play in again and again...

**Title:** Solace  
**Author:** Dakota423  
**Rating:** T for now  
**Summary:** A series of follow-ups to my fic "A Fighting Chance." Derek and Sarah stumble and trip over the ultimate question: What are they to each other? Derek/Sarah, w/ brief mentions of John/Cam. You **MUST **read "A Fighting Chance" first, no questions asked.  
**Author's Note:** Okay, finally. I've had this in my head for a while, but it took a bit for the words to really come to me. This is just a series of fics about Derek and Sarah after the events of my fic _A Fighting Chance_. Probably going to be sporadic and emotional, with the right amount of angst and humor thrown in for the best results possible. Enjoy!

* * *

_There was a part of Sarah that didn't want to acknowledge it. He was Kyle's brother, for God sake. John's uncle. A stranger. He was harsh and uncouth and probably crazy and dirty, with the exception of brushing his teeth for twenty minutes three times a day._

_But hate him or not, Sarah Connor had found the one piece of solace left in the world in the arms of Derek Reese._

_It wasn't a relationship. Both of them would agree that there would be no love in what they shared. Only comfort._

_It wasn't about wanting anything. It was strictly need: the need to feel something, anything other than the emptiness that had become their only companions over the long bleak years of the war._

_But Sarah wanted it. Somewhere inside of her -- in that place she had built a wall around -- she felt something for Derek._

_The night of John's birthday had started it all._

* * *

She felt a bit like the girl she'd been before all of this had started, a girl excited about a boy who showed even the slightest interest in her: giddy and slightly terrified. They had been outside, after John had gone to bed and Cameron had begun her routine inspection of the house; Sarah was sitting on the bench and Derek was leaning against the railing of the porch. He was smoking cigarette, the end glowing red every time he took a drag. The light floated there against the black night, the only source of illumination they had. They were silent, listening to the wind run through the grass and the trees. The swing set creaked, and Sarah felt ready to bolt.

"You okay?"

She jerked her head to him. He was a dark silhouette in the shadows, the glow of his cigarette a red lightning bug hovering next to him.

"I'm fine," she said. "Why?"

He shrugged and took a drag off his cigarette, then dropped it and smashed it beneath his boot. Sarah frowned but let it go.

"You haven't said a word since you came out here."

She looked away and rubbed her arms to fight off the chills that had crept across her skin. "I'm fine," she repeated.

Derek pushed away from the railing and walked over to the bench. He watched her with a blank look on his face, then sat down next to her. Sarah tensed, every nerve in her body screaming that it was wrong, that she should get up, run away. But she didn't move.

"Okay then." He leaned back against the house and sighed. Sarah felt the overwhelming urge to punch him, just so she would feel something other than the tension between them.

He was maddening. She couldn't stand him…

"Why did you tell me you knew?"

Way to hold out, Sarah. Why did you have to open your mouth?

Derek was silent, then he picked at a spot on his jeans. "I guess 'cause I thought you should know that I knew." He frowned. "What? You think I wouldn't want to tell you?"

She frowned back. "It just seems like something you'd enjoy holding over my head."

He shrugged again. "Maybe."

His tenacity sometimes was just unbearable. With a roll of her eyes Sarah stood and headed for the door. Derek hopped up after her.

"Hey, I'm not done with you yet."

She spun on him. "Really? Because I'm done with you."

His eyes blazed in annoyance as he walked up to her. He didn't stop until they were almost chest to chest. Sarah kept her eyes on his the entire time.

"We gotta talk."

She faltered at that, her gaze dropping. "We've already talked--"

"Yeah, well we need to talk again."

"It can't wait?"

She was being childish, scared, stupid. She knew what he wanted to talk about; she didn't want to listen.

But he laughed and smirked down at her. "Sarah."

Her eyes shut, blocking out the images. It was Kyle's voice she heard in her head, not Derek's. That's where the problem was. She couldn't…

"Derek, please, let's just…"

"Just what?"

She sighed and clenched her fists, trying to strengthen her will. It wasn't working very well. Damn the Reese brothers for making her lose whatever power she had.

"I can't," she tried. "_We_ can't."

He looked at her, eyes showing just the faintest trace of confusion, and then it dawned on him.

"Oh."

She stared at him. "What do you mean, 'oh'?"

He laughed again and turned away, shoving his hands into his pockets. When he looked back at her, his eyes were bright like a child's. A child who had just discovered he could pick on someone else.

"That's not what I wanted to talk about, but if it's really bothering you..."

The bastard!

"Go to hell."

He tried to frown, to get angry, but it failed. Sarah fought with all her might the smirk that threatened to pull at the corners of her lips.

"Too late, been there," he quipped.

"Shame you couldn't have stayed."

His lips twitched in a smirk. "They could only handle so much."

"Oh, they kicked you out on your ass?"

"It was more of a voluntary discharge."

She had to catch the reply before it left her mouth. Were they _flirting_?

Sarah frowned at him. "Was there something you wanted to talk about? Or am I wasting my time?"

Derek stared at her for a moment, his expression falling somewhere between amusement and seriousness. He crossed his arms.

"We need to do something about Sarkissian," he said, not sparing her any of the malice in his voice. "We need to do it now."

Sarah sighed and put a hand to her forehead. "Can it wait?"

"Sarah…"

"Derek, I mean it. Not tonight."

Her sentence fell off, and the two of them stood silently in the darkness of the porch. Derek shuffled his feet and went to pull out another cigarette, but Sarah reached out and caught his wrist.

"Look, about what happened in there--"

"Don't worry about it."

She stared up at him. "Derek--"

He shook his head and lit up. He took a long drag off if to get it going, then blew the smoke away, staring at it as it disappeared into the night. "Forget about it, Sarah."

But this was Sarah Connor. She didn't forgive _or_ forget.

"No, I won't. We need to talk about it, Reese."

She saw him blink at his name, saw him look down at his boots and shake his head. She wanted to slap him. She wanted to kiss him.

"You wanna go to the park tomorrow?"

She frowned. "What?"

He looked down at her. "I wanna take you to the park. Tomorrow."

"Wha-- _Why_?"

He shrugged. "I just figured…"

And then she understood what he meant. He wanted to take her to see…

"Derek…"

"You don't have to go if you don't want to. I'd get it."

She stood there a moment, thinking it through. Derek finished of his cigarette and tossed it to the ground, then made like he was going inside. Sarah caught his hand and squeezed it.

"I'd love to."

Author's Note: Please review and tell me what you think and if I should continue this. I'm rather tentative at the moment; sugggestions as to what should happen would be greatly appreciated!


	2. If You Need Him

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the Terminator franchise. I just enjoy the sandbox.

(Author's Note: Well, I guess I'm just in a TSCC mood. First _**Break**, _then **_Solace!_** I'm kind of excited about it. I don't like leaving my readers hanging. Speaking of which...

**Miguel Artadi:**Hope this chapter is up to your standards, and I hope you like Sarah's reaction.

**klylu:** Yeah, I suppose I did make Derek a little playful in the last chapter, I think he ran away with me. He's more subdued in this one; I hope that doesn't affect your opinion of this chapter

And finally, to **Metropolis Kid:** Surprise! I got the next chapter up sooner than I thought! I hope you enjoy it!

* * *

The sun was shining.

For once, Derek Reese wasn't paying attention to it. For the first time since he'd arrived back in 2007, he was taking pure, unadulterated blue skies for granted.

He blamed it on her.

Sarah was sitting next to him on the park bench, watching the kids and their parents run around. Her hands were folded loosely in her lap and her legs were crossed. She looked normal -- just a woman sitting in the park to enjoy herself. Not to scope out a building or a target, not waiting for a business transaction. Just enjoying a nice day.

Derek had to hand it to her. She was good at hiding herself away inside her skin. She almost had him beat.

"Did the two of you come here often?"

He leaned back against the bench, breathing a great lungful of air. That he would never take for granted: breathing clean air.

"Most of the time. Our front yard wasn't all that big."

Sarah nodded slightly and fell silent. Derek knew she was looking for them.

"I can't promise we were here," he said. "Don't get your hopes up."

She shrugged and didn't say anything. He watched her, then looked out at the park.

"Kyle had one hell of an arm," he said, not sure if he should even be talking about his brother. It was a tender nerve for both of them, but before he could really register if it bothered Sarah, the words were spilling out.

"We played all the time, me and Kyle. Even after they dropped the bombs we found a way to throw a ball around. Didn't matter if it was a rock or we couldn't play outside. We did it." He crossed his arms. "Honestly, I think that's what killed him the most. Not being able to play ball."

Sarah kept staring out, but Derek knew she was processing the new information. He knew that there were two different Kyles; the boy Derek had raised on his own was a stranger to the man that had saved Sarah Connor's life. She was having trouble melding the two of them, sealing the two personalities into a greater, more complete image. He didn't blame her. He was having the same problem.

"He never told me anything about his life before…" Her voice faltered and she turned to fix Derek with a hard stare. "He never mentioned you. Not once."

"Yeah, well…" He crossed his arms. "That's not a surprise."

Sarah watched him a moment. "You two didn't get along."

"We did. But he was stupid." And when she didn't say anything, he added, "He was reckless. He didn't think, and look where it got him."

They were silent again. Around them were voices, happy and laughing. The sun still shone, the blue sky was still clear and bright. But neither of them were seeing it. One was in the future, the other in the past.

It was where they were Fated to dwell.

Derek kept seeing the retreating form of his brother, disappearing behind smoke and ash. It was the last time he'd seen Kyle, the last time he'd spoken to him, before he'd been captured. He was supposed to protect him, it was his job as big brother, his dad had told him--

Sarah remembered watching the police come into the wrecked factory. She remembered hearing their hushed voices, wondering about the smashed robot in the metal press. She remembered watching them load the stretcher into the ambulance and driving away, talking Kyle away from her…

She looked up, staring into the sun to make her tears go away. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Derek doing the same thing.

In that moment, Sarah Connor felt more hatred toward Skynet than she ever had before. It was always the same: it took and took and took, and left only pain and suffering in its wake.

They had to do something. She couldn't take it anymore.

"Derek, we've gotta stop this."

He didn't look at her; his arms were still crossed.

"We don't know where Sarkissian is."

"I don't care. We'll find him."

He turned his head, fixing her with a hard green stare. "Sarah."

"Don't, Reese. We'll find him. And the Turk. We're gonna stop this."

He didn't question her further. He sighed and looked back out at the stretch of grass before them. Two boys were playing ball a little ways off. Again, Derek was overwhelmed by the paradox of watching his younger self.

He was about to tell Sarah, but she had already seen, he could tell. Her expression, which only moments ago was determined, battle-hardened, had softened. Her eyes were watery, _loving_.

He wondered what she had been like before she'd been the Mother of mankind.

And as he watched her watch Kyle -- young, vibrant, alive -- he wondered if she would tell him, before all of this was over.

* * *

"You saw him, didn't you?"

Sarah put the last plate in the sink, sighing. John was at the table, staring at her. He was supposed to be doing his homework.

"Mom?"

She dried her hands off and stared out the window. Derek was at the swing set, doing pull ups. He was straining -- his chest was probably hurting like hell -- but he was too stubborn to quit. He'd been out there till his wound opened again.

They'd been back from the park for a few hours now. Neither of them had said much to each other since.

"Mom."

Sarah sighed again and turned around. "Yeah."

John's eyes lit up. "And?"

She frowned, not sure what to say. John waited for her to reply, but when she didn't, he looked back at his paper.

"So what did you two talk about?"

"John, stop."

He looked up at her again. "What? I know what happened last night."

Her head snapped up. "You do?"

John shrugged. "Its cool."

She hadn't been looking for his approval.

So why did she feel better about it?

"He's my uncle," John continued, starting to scribble something down on his homework, "but he's the closest thing to a dad I've got. Him and Charlie."

"John--"

"I guess what I'm trying to say is… If you need him…"

He let the sentence hang in the air, but Sarah knew what he was getting at. And even though he was trying to help, in his own way, it had only made her more confused.

She'd forgotten about Charlie.

She sighed and looked out the window again. Derek was leaning against the swing support, breathing heavily, sweat dripping down his face. And then his head snapped in her direction and his eyes met hers. Sarah's breath caught.

_If you need him…_

Did she?

* * *

(Author's Note: Short chapter, and I apologize for that, but hey, I gave you one, didn't I? Please **REVIEW** and tell me what you thought!! If you want me to keep writing, you have to review. They keep me going!)


	3. It's Better This Way

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the Terminator franchise. If I did, I would have Derek Reese and 16-year old John Connor locked in my basement. ...does that sound creepy?

**Author's Note:** See? Didn't I say I wouldn't let you down? Didn't I promise that this fic wouldn't be abandoned? Didn't I say that I'd update before Season 2 started?? AHA! See?? SEE?? It only took me holding myself hostage to get this chapter started, but once I got it rolling, the characters took control. So please, enjoy!

...and you all were worried... ;)

* * *

The Ford Explorer parked on the curb across the street from the office building. Its headlights clicked off and the engine stopped, but no one emerged from it.

"Two exits," Sarah said. "We've got an hour or less." She turned in her seat to look at John and Cameron. "You--"

John cut her off with a roll of the eyes. "Knock out security. We know, Mom."

She scowled at him, then turned to glare at Derek. "You--"

"Sarah, seriously." He pulled his Beretta from his belt and checked the chamber before loading it. The sound was loud and seemed to echo in the confines of the car. He didn't seem to notice. "We've done this before."

"And it nearly cost us my son's life."

Derek gave her a raised eyebrow. "So why the hell did you bring him along?"

Sarah glared back. "I don't have to explain myself to you."

Derek shrugged and went back to checking his gun. "I'm just saying…"

She slammed the emergency brake down and snapped, "You're in no goddamn position to lecture me about how I raise my son--"

"Well when you bitch about his safety and then take him to a damn shootout--"

"It's _not_ going to be a shootout--"

"Then why the hell did we bother bringing the automatics?"

"It's precaution, Reese! I have to protect him--"

John cleared his throat from the backseat. "I'm still here, y'know."

They both ignored him.

"He'd be safer at home," Derek snapped. "Someplace where he's outta the way--"

"Dammit, Reese—"

John rolled his eyes again and looked over at Cameron. She smirked at him with her eyes, keeping her face blank per usual. John sighed and grabbed his backpack, then unlocked the door and climbed out before his mom and uncle could shift gears and stop him. As he slammed the door shut he heard Derek snap "What the hell are you doing?" and his mom shout "John! Get back in the car!"

He ignored them and slung his backpack over his shoulder. Cameron came around the back of the car, her expression neutral but her eyes amused. John jerked his head in the direction of the building.

"C'mon. Let's get this done."

As they started down the sidewalk Sarah and Derek scrambled out of the car.

"John! Get back here!"

He turned around but kept walking. "Mom, I've got this. Relax." And he adjusted the weight of his backpack and turned around, Cameron keeping stride with him even as she glanced back and met Sarah's eyes.

Sarah knew what the look meant, but she didn't have to like it.

"Damn," she mumbled, and then she rounded on Derek.

"This is your fault," she snapped. "If you hadn't—"

"My fault?" Derek stared at her from across the hood of the Explorer. "This is _my_ fault?"

Instead of answering, she just glared and got the duffel bag from the car, and then walked down the sidewalk after her son. Derek stared at her retreating figure, steaming.

Jamming his Beretta into the back of his jeans, he slammed his door shut and followed.

"Bitch."

"I heard that."

* * *

The plan had been simple.

Get in. Get the information. Wipe out the system. Get out. Don't kill or get killed in the process.

They'd gotten into the office building easily enough. John had gotten around the main security and had accessed the needed files with little difficulty. The virus he planted before they left ate the systems up without a hitch. Everything was going so well, in fact, that they really shouldn't have been surprised when they met the security guards at the door.

In all her years of fighting and running from Skynet, Sarah had become uncomfortably familiar with Murphy's Law. She'd learned that it was just something you had to deal with.

Tell that to the bullet in her shoulder.

After their narrow escape (Cameron held the semi-poor excuses for rent-a-cops off while she, Derek and John made for the car), they rushed home. How one of the guards had managed to knick her – and why the bastard had pulled a gun in the first place – was entirely beyond her, but she decided not to ponder it too long; it would do better for her to concentrate on NOT cursing everything under the sun to the deepest pits of Hell. The drive was fairly silent: except for a few muttered 'damns' when John pressed his hand over the wound, Sarah never said a word; Derek was surprisingly solemn as he drove; Cameron watched the road with her usual blank stare.

It wasn't until they made it inside the house and Cameron pulled out the first aid kit that anyone spoke.

"I'll do it."

Everyone stared at Derek with surprised expressions, even Cameron. She, being the machine, though, was naturally the quickest to recover.

"I would do a better job," she said matter-of-factly. "My programming dictates—"

"Yeah, and I don't give a damn." Derek stepped forward and took the needle that she had been threading, glaring down at her. "You're not touching her."

Sarah, frustrated and in considerable amounts of pain, quipped, "She's done it before, Reese."

He fixed her with his glare. "That was before she blew up. What makes you think she won't fuck up and make it worse?"

"Reese—"

Derek finished threading the needle, not replying. John, seeing the expressions on both their faces, acted accordingly and grabbed Cameron by the upper arm.

"C'mon, Cam. Let's go decode the files."

Cameron opened her mouth to respond, but John raised his eyebrows in that "just do it" way, so she complied and followed him out of the kitchen. Sarah sighed and glared at Derek.

"You're an ass, you know that?"

He didn't look at her as he said, "I meant it. I don't want her touching you."

Sarah stared at him, then turned away. Despite blood loss she still managed to blush. Damn all Reeses…

She felt his hands on her shoulder, and before she could say anything he was ripping the material of her shirt from the neck down to the hem, thoroughly exposing her back. She wanted to scream at him, clout him over the head, _anything_. He didn't apologize. In face, he didn't say anything. Nothing off-hand or rude or even remotely Derek-like.

He simply wiped away the excess blood and took the needle and began to sew her up.

The initial hiss of pain was the only sound she made as his calloused fingers pulled the needle and thread through her torn skin. After that she gritted her teeth and bore it.

_Pinch… Pull… Pinch… Pull… Pinch…_

"I told you, y'know."

Sarah opened her eyes. "What?"

Derek pulled on the thread and she sucked in her breath.

"I told you it'd be a goddamn shootout."

She had the urge to laugh, but thought better of it.

"You call one gun being fired a shootout?"

She felt him shrug and finish the suturing, and then he packed up the first aid kit and shut it. He didn't say anything until he was at the sink washing his hands.

"It's a shootout if somebody gets shot."

He was close enough, if she just scooted forward on the table a little bit her boot would go straight up his—

He turned around and gave her a look, one that was strangely familiar and made her skin burn, and not just where she'd been shot. Their eyes met, and suddenly is was an impromptu staring contest; who would pansy out first? Sarah had the fleeting feeling that it might be her – the way he was looking at her, it was different. Uncertain, hesitant even, but beneath that was determination and something else, something…predatory.

And it was that glint, that single streak of hunter in his eyes that made her look away.

His voice was pitched low when he said, "Y'know, sometimes I just don't get you."

She didn't hear him because she didn't want to. Instead, she hopped off the table and tentatively rolled her shoulder, testing the amount of movement the stitching gave her. She hated to admit it, but he'd done a good job. However, her shirt was ripped to shreds, and that presented a problem.

Before she could think better of it she pulled the shirt off and walked out of the kitchen, knowing full well Derek's fiery green eyes were glued to her bare skin.

"It's better that way."

* * *

(**Author's Note:** Uh-oh. Hehe, enter sexual tension! Also, notice how the author cleverly avoiding having to write an action scene. Haha. Clever author. Anywho, please **REVIEW** and tell me what you think! I have the feeling this story is finally starting to come along. )


	4. Something Stupid

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the Terminator franchise. I just enjoy playing in the sandbox. I'll clean up if I leave, I swear!

**Author's Note:** Okay, so I really wanted to get another chapter out before HAPPY DAY, aka: Monday September 8th, so here it is! Plus, I just finished writing a paper for my Comp class, and I totally hated it, so writing this made me feel loads better.

I wanted to experiment writing from Derek's point of view, since the last three chapters have been primarily inside Sarah's head. I'll say that it was quite fun. Enjoy!

_**Verigood**__,__** Alana84**__,__and__** Pjazz: **__Thanks so much! I'm glad you enjoyed it._

_**Metroplolis Kid:**__ I know I said I was going to go over the last chapter and rewrite some of it, but I changed my mind and decided I like it as is. I liked the sudden dynamic change. But this chapter will hopefully change your mind about it; the nuanced feelings need to become more out in the open, because Derek and Sarah have to grow up and be big boys and girls sometime. ;)_

* * *

Derek Reese was the kind of guy that usually didn't ponder over something for too long. He was more of an action-taker; too much planning made him antsy. He enjoyed winging it; flying by the seat of his pants, so to speak. He made it a habit to run on instinct, to shoot first and ask questions later. He prided himself on being able to operate under pressure.

But when it came to Sarah Connor, he was at a loss.

All of a sudden, Derek felt the need to think it over. He was afraid of running headlong into… whatever the hell it was he might be running headlong into. There were times when he wanted to step out of the situation and just _think._

He didn't like it.

So after the "kitchen incident," as he'd come to call it over the past week, Derek had been careful to make sure that he was _not_ around Sarah for longer than necessary; that night had been proof enough that he couldn't be left alone with her. So he opted out of going with her on missions and settled instead on doing recon work alone. There was even one night when he volunteered to team up with _Cameron_, rather than go with Sarah and risk doing something stupid.

Because God forbid he do something stupid.

The possibilities were endless. What if he slipped up and said something he shouldn't? What if he touched her and it led to something that shouldn't happen? What if he – hold on to your seats, ladies and gents – grew a pair and just _told her?_

That option was, quite naturally, quickly erased from the list. God forbid he do that, either.

Without having heard her say so, Derek also knew that Sarah was angry. Whether it was directed at him was questionable, but he knew enough to stay away from her. Inciting her wrath was the last thing he wanted to do.

And so the eldest Reese was reduced, all in the matter of a week, to a hormone-rampant teenaged boy with his tail between his legs. Actually, he wouldn't doubt if John was acting more mature than he was at that moment.

'That moment' happened to be at the top of a list of rather pathetic instances, too. Sarah had gone out to get info on the Turk's whereabouts, and Derek had claimed he would stay behind and clean the guns. With the look Sarah had given him, he might have just proclaimed to the world he was trading in his testicles for an apron and baking a fucking cake. But she didn't say anything beyond a warning that if he touched her personal firearms, she'd shoot him.

He didn't argue with her. Instead, he pussed out and stuck to cleaning his own guns, the whole time beating himself up over being _such a goddamn pussy…_

"You might try flowers."

Derek jumped and looked up from the gun he was cleaning, then glared at the Terminator that was standing in the doorway.

"What?"

Cameron stared at him, her brown eyes blank. "Flowers. My research indicates that when a man wishes to apologize to a woman he likes, he gives her flowers."

Derek simply narrowed his eyes more. Deny. Deny it all…

"And who the hell said I liked someone?"

"John said—"

He dropped the rag on the table and set down the piece he was cleaning, standing rather abruptly. Cameron didn't move; as usual, she continued to stare at him.

"Have I been misinformed?"

"Get outta the way."

She moved aside and he pushed past her, heading down the hall. He really didn't want to do this – he had a terrible feeling it would be a repeat of giving the same information to Kyle – but it had to be done.

Time to give his nephew a talking to.

* * *

John was sitting at his computer when Derek walked into the room. The boy looked up, his expression bright – for about two seconds. Then he noticed the look on his uncle's face.

_Cameron…_

He was gonna have to teach her how to keep her mouth shut.

"What's up?" he asked, trying to play it cool. Maybe Cameron hadn't told him what he'd said…

…and maybe Kyle Reese would burst into the room singing and wearing a Barney costume.

Despite the image that had suddenly popped into his head, John managed to keep a straight face and waited for Derek to answer.

"What have you been telling the metal?"

John kind of wished it had been the Barney costume. It certainly would have been more pleasant. But in any case…

Deny. Deny it all.

"What do you mean?"

Derek shut the door behind him and came to stand by his desk. His eyes did that thing that all adults did, that 'I'm older so I'm right by default' sweep over his stuff and over him. John crossed his arms.

"I mean, what did you say to her about me and your mom?"

_Damn._

John shrugged. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't give me that shit, John. What the hell did you say?"

He met his uncle's eyes and sighed. _Fine…_

"Look, all I did was mention that you two have been acting weird around each other lately…"

"And?"

"And that's it. I didn't say anything else."

Derek gave him another look, the 'you're not fooling anybody' one. John fidgeted. God, he was worse than his mother…

"Okay, I might've mentioned that you two are worse than a couple of teenagers, but that was it!" He frowned. "It's not like she understands it anyway."

That's right, Johnny-boy. Lie. Lie your ass off.

But Derek just gave him another look. "Next time, keep your mouth shut. I don't fucking need advice from Terminators."

He turned to leave the room, but John piped up with a grin as he opened the door, "How 'bout advice from nephews?"

* * *

Sarah crept in the door, shutting it carefully behind her. It was late – far later than she had wanted to be out – and she knew at least John would be asleep. She went into the kitchen, setting the stack of files she'd acquired on the breakfast bar and shedding her coat. As she slung it across the back of a chair, her eyes drifted upward towards the table. Her brows drew together when she saw something lying there.

_Dammit, Derek. Clean up your damn mess—_

But it wasn't the gun cleaning equipment.

It was a bouquet of flowers.

White daisies.

Sarah smiled in spite of herself.

"Bastard…"

(Author's Note: This was a really fun chapter to write; I definitely think it's one of my funnier ones. I love writing Derek, he's so fun. Please **REVIEW **and tell me what you think!)


	5. Those Little Reminders

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Terminator franchise. However, my wish to own it has increased tenfold now that Christian Bale is included in it. ^^**

**Author's Note:** I always feel like the chapters I update need Welcome Home parties to go along with them, because I update so infrequently now... Anyway, I once again sat myself down and forced myself to write. Compared to the last chapter, I'm nowhere near impressed with this one, mostly because its nowhere NEAR as hilarious, and also because its a little more train-of-Sarah's-crazy-thoughts-oriented. Hope you enjoy it.

* * *

"Wanna tell me what you're doing?"

She heard him sigh and watched as he shimmied out from underneath the sink. The look in his eyes screamed 'call Captain Obvious.'

"Fixing the sink."

Sarah crossed her arms, not knowing that she had cocked out her hip and was giving him a look quite reminiscent of her pre-Mother-of-Mankind days. Of course, Derek would never have recognized it.

"I wasn't aware that it needed to be fixed."

He looked at her for a moment, then ducked back under the sink. Sarah rolled her eyes in frustration and went to the pantry for some bread. She knew the sink didn't need to be fixed; he was just "fixing" it because he had nothing better to do.

None of them did.

It had been weeks since they'd had even a whiff of the Turk's trail, and the ensuing doldrums were starting to affect them all. But if anyone had the worst case of cabin fever, it was Derek. God forbid he be stuck inside for longer than a few minutes.

Of course, deep down Sarah knew that his need to constantly be on the move stemmed from his past. Kyle had been the same way. He'd hated staying in one spot for too long, it was never safe…

She set the jar of peanut butter down a little harder than she'd intended, trying to snap out of whatever nostalgia she'd been about to enter. But the resounding noise had made Derek sit up rather suddenly beneath the sink and the crack of his forehead hitting the underside of the cabinet was louder than what had startled him. Sarah winced inwardly.

"_Fuck!"_

Shaking her head, she walked across the kitchen and helped him out from under the sink. There was a nasty gash on his forehead, but it wasn't bleeding much, so she skipped straight to chastising him.

"Gun-shy much?"

The glare he sent her was all fury, and he pushed her away and stood, turning away. Sarah stood as well and crossed her arms, watching as he pulled the first aid kit out from the top cabinet and set about applying antibiotic ointment to the cut without the use of a mirror. Her eyebrow quirked when Derek began feeling around for the gash and cursed every time he touched it.

"Here." She took the Neosporin from him and reached up to wipe some across the cut. He watched her as she did it, his green eyes focused on her face intently. When she pulled her hand away Sarah met his eyes and froze.

He was still angry to be sure, but that wasn't all. It was never all these days.

She thought she'd be able to look away, but for some reason she kept on staring back, and he did the same, and the air seemed to disappear from the room.

She slowly became aware that they were very close, and that his lips were even closer. Her stomach flipped.

The gut-wrench was enough motivation to snap out of it, and she slapped the Band-Aid on perhaps rougher than necessary. Needless to say, it broke whatever spell had fallen over them.

"Goddammit! That fuckin hurt!"

She found her voice quicker than she thought she would. "That's what you get for trying to fix something that doesn't need to be fixed. Next time you're bored, go for a walk or something."

And with that she exited the kitchen, leaving Derek fuming behind her. He put the first aid kit back and stormed toward the gun safe.

He needed something to clean.

* * *

Sarah was thinking about flowers. Or, more specifically, daisies.

White ones.

_Damn him…_

They hadn't been spoken about. Neither one of them had mentioned them after that night. The whole event had become forgotten, as if it had never happened. But, as usual, silence and feigned ignorance failed them.

The looks were still there. The tension was still between them. That… that _feeling_ ― that intangible thing ― was still lurking around the corner, watching, waiting for one of them to get close enough, to make one stupid mistake…

And they had come so close so many times. John's birthday, that night she'd been shot, just now in the kitchen… So many times she'd seen that look and thoughts had run rampant through her head and her pulse had quickened and she'd had to shut it out, had to force it away.

Because she couldn't afford to make another mistake. She couldn't afford to fall prey to it, despite how much she ached to.

He was Kyle's brother, for God's sake. Her lover's _brother…_

But then why did she find herself thinking about Derek more often? Was it because he was there and Kyle was not? Was it because Derek was _available?_ Or was he really? Something about him screamed 'off limits,' though she wasn't sure why.

But if he was off limits, why did he keep looking at her like that? Why did he keep fixing her with those green eyes and just proceed to _stare_, like he could see straight through her? Or worse, like he wanted to…

It was that that she hated the most, that predatory gleam. That hunger in his eyes. Like she was meat.

But wasn't it her fault? Wasn't she the one that had made him do it? Hadn't she pulled her shirt off in front of him?

But that wouldn't be enough to make him like that. Not in a million years. A teenager, maybe, but not Derek. No, not Derek…

So what had just happened? Another moment, another chance of her slipping up. But what if she just went with it? Went with it like she'd gone along with the park idea? What would happen then?

Would something good or bad come out of it?

_No Fate but what we make._..

"Sarah? Where the hell's the gun oil?"

"Its where you left it!"

"Well where the fuck is that?!"

Sarah shook her head and dumped the bouquet into her wastebasket before going to help him find it. No, better to go on like nothing had happened. Like nothing _would _happen.

_It's better this way, remember, Sarah?_

* * *

**Author's Note: **Please review! Tell me what you thought of this chapter!


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